“I’m not sure,” said he. “But if my judgment’s any good, I’d say that the lot that had gone in chase of Ethel and my brother had been given a good stiff run, and in the end had fallen in with some Americans who’d sailed into them.”
“In that case,” said Walter, “Miss Norton would be all right.”
Sid nodded.
“That’s what I think,” said he.
“There’s only one way to make sure,” said Davy Crockett. “And that’s to cross the river and find out.”
The pony which Sid Hutchinson had been bound upon was not fit to ride; but there were a number of riderless mustangs standing and trotting about on the plain, belonging to Mexicans who had fallen in the fight. One of these was caught without trouble, and Sid mounted at once.
In the course of an hour they reached a ford of the Colorado and crossed; Sid led them to the site of the encampment where the Mexicans had first attacked them; and at once Crockett and Dolph caught the trail of the pursuers of Ethel Norton and Sid’s brother Bill, and away they rode, the remainder of the party following with ready rifles. After a hard ride they came to a place which was thickly grown with timber.
Sid Hutchinson called to Crockett.
“Here’s where we stopped when we heard the firing,” said he. “It was somewhere on the other side of the timber.”
The party pushed their way through the trees; and in a little while they came upon the scene of what must have been a hard fight.